Pug Payback
A man in a suit dropped a bottle cap on my table at the back of the soda shop. I flipped it over. It had a white dot painted inside. He knew my code, which meant he was part of the underground crime system, but
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Burnt Sugar & Mischief
Fern pressed a wrinkled finger against each of the tiny shamrocks embedded in the mossy roof. “I used to love playing leprechauns,” she mused, turning the miniature clover-colored house in her stiff hands. “Guess you’re not so magical after all.”
Peering inside
Luna’s Arctic Aggravation
The wind whipped against the door to Luna’s enclosure. She sighed and snuggled deeper into her cozy bed of straw.
“Good morning, Luna.” A gangly keeper in khaki pants and a green Zoo polo peered at her through the bars. “It’s a beautiful
The Cube
Jane hunched over her desk, staring at myriad pieces of hardlight holocube projector core. Even through her shade visor, the world was headache-bright. That omnipresent gritty burn seared the corners of her eyes.
She balanced half the core in her palm, slotted in another part. Tried to
Purpose
Marjorie woke up strapped to a surgical table in an unfamiliar laboratory. One minute, she had been walking to her car alone, worried her life was going nowhere; the next, she’d fought for it as a pungent cloth covered her nose and mouth.
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